Nightcall
by hoydenish
Summary: Amanda is forced to make an impossible choice. Could fit within canon, somewhere late Season 2 or early Season 3. Inspired by the song "Nightcall" by London Grammar.
1. Chapter 1

It was three o'clock on a rainy morning when his telephone rang. He pushed his companion off his chest and stood, still feeling the effects of the night's debauchery as he stumbled into his living room.

"Stetson." he barked into the receiver, only to be met by silence.

"Hello? Look, it's late, so if you've got something to say, then say it." The woman from his bed walked by, pulling on her top and trailing a hand over his naked chest, purring "G'night, Brian. Thanks for the … ride." and then walking out his front door.

He heard a slight intake of breath, the sound of car wheels on wet pavement, and then dial tone.

SMK SMK SMK SMK SMK

Arriving in the bullpen mid-morning the next day, he felt judgmental eyes tracking his movement towards his desk, but he couldn't give a damn. They hadn't cared about him when he was up, why the hell should he care what they thought now that he was at rock bottom?

"Scarecrow. My office. Now." Billy's voice briefly silenced the clattering of keyboards, and then everyone found other places to look. Lee sighed, draping his suit jacket over his chair and walking reluctantly into his boss' office, sinking into the nearest chair.

"Nice of you to join us this morning, Lee." Billy commented caustically.

"Let's skip the pleasantries, shall we, Billy? What do you want?" He was in no mood for a lecture.

"What I want is my best agent back, but we both know that's not going to happen today. Maybe not ever, at the rate you're circling the drain. But what I'm asking is that you take on this new assignment Dr. Smyth just dropped on my desk. There are rumours that the Southern Sons of Liberty are planning some kind of federal assassination. I need you to do a comprehensive surveillance of their purported leader, Jim Brady, to try to find out what they're planning. Everything you need is in this file. Pick someone to join you. Francine maybe."

"Billy, no." Lee said decisively, taking the file from his supervisor's hands.

"No? You're turning down the assignment?" Billy's voice rose in anger brought on by sincere concern for his long-time protégé.

"I'll take the assignment, but I'm not working with anyone. I'll handle it on my own."

"Lee, we're talking about round-the-clock surveillance. You're going to need back-up."

"I don't sleep anyway, Billy. Either I do this alone, or I don't do it at all." his jaw set in a stubborn line.

"Lee ….. it's been two months. Look, I know it was hard on you when she left, but you've got to try …" his voice trailed off as his agent stood and left his office, file in hand, pulling the door closed a bit harder than necessary. The conversation was over, apparently.

Billy sighed. He was seriously concerned about Lee. Never a poster boy for clean living, he'd heard the rumours circulating around the Agency since Amanda's departure. Lee was drinking heavily, trolling his way through the secretarial pool faster than he had as a novice agent, and basically signalling that he had bought himself a one-way ticket on a trip to self-destruction.

Billy thought back to the day, two months before, when he had found Amanda sitting quietly in his office when he arrived at seven in the morning. She'd had a haggard, desperate look in her eyes and he suspected she hadn't slept, but her words had been decisive and obviously well-rehearsed.

"Sir, I'm here to submit my resignation. I know this will come as a big surprise to you and … others at the Agency, but it's something I have to do. I've been very proud of the work I've done here, and will always remember your kindness and support, but I can't …" here her voice broke, and she looked down at her hands, clasped in her lap.

"Amanda …" he tried to interrupt.

"No, Sir. Let me finish. What I'm trying to say is that I can't afford to pay the price this job is costing me, and I can't stand to be a disappointment to … any of you. Thank you again, Sir. For everything." She stood abruptly and gave him a quick hug without meeting his eyes, then turned and walked quickly for the door.

"Amanda, what about Lee? Have you spoken to him about this?" he interrupted her departure, but she didn't turn around.

"No, Sir. He'll know what I've done soon enough." Billy could hear the choked tears in her voice, but before he could react, she was gone. It was the last time he'd seen her.

SMK SMK SMK SMK SMK

The sound of the front door opening broke Amanda out of her trance. She was in her pajamas, sitting on her couch and staring at the TV, which was muted.

"Amanda? Oh, sweetheart, you haven't moved since I left this morning. Have you eaten anything?" Dotty said, gravely worried about her daughter.

"I … I don't know. I don't think so." she said weakly, disoriented.

"Alright. I've been as patient as I know how to be, but this had gone on long enough. Too long, actually. You are coming with me right now, and we're going to see the doctor. Amanda, this isn't like you. I know you were disappointed when you lost your job at that film company, but enough is enough! You haven't had a shower in days. I can count the vertebrae of your neck, you're so skinny. You're killing yourself, and I can't for the life of me figure out why. It was just a job!" Dotty finished her rant, grasping her daughter's dry hand, trying to pull her to standing.

"No. No, Mother. It was a lot more than just a job. And I won't go see the doctor. I know what he'll say. He'll want me to take some kind of medication, to lift my spirits. But Mother, I don't want my spirits lifted." she answered stubbornly.

"I deserve to feel this way …" she whispered to herself.

Amanda stood and wandered into the kitchen, making herself a sandwich, if only to placate her mother. It tasted like sawdust and ashes in her mouth, but she chewed dutifully before making her way upstairs, determined to have a shower and get dressed before the boys came home from school.

SMK SMK SMK SMK SMK

Later in the evening, she found herself parking in the street in front of Monk's. Looking around for a silver Corvette and finding none, she made her way inside, sliding into a booth and ordering a wine spritzer from the waitress.

She wasn't certain why she felt compelled to come to Monk's. It wasn't like they'd spent much time there. Just a couple visits, once when they'd first started to work together, and then again a few years' later, stopping in for a drink before catching a movie at the cinema down the street. Still, it reminded her of him, with its strange blend of familiarity and intrigue. Had she asked them, most of the people sitting around her would have known Lee by name, possibly having worked with him or shared some casual acquaintance. It was the closest she dared get to him, and it brought her a small measure of comfort in what was otherwise a comfortless existence.

" …. typical Scarecrow behaviour. I mean, he settled down there for a while, when that housewife was around yanking his leash, but he's back to his old tricks. Morley told me he left the Polish embassy party the other night with not one but two blondes on his arm. But he had to call them all a cab, since he was in no state to be driving. Too much vodka. Betcha' it didn't get in his way when it came to those two beauties, though, if you know what I mean …"

Amanda listened intently to the conversation from the booth behind hers. She didn't recognize the man's voice, but he obviously worked at the Agency, so she hunched into the corner of her booth, hoping she wouldn't be recognized. Her heart was pounding fast and hard in her chest. It was the closest she'd been to knowing what was going on with Lee since she'd quit the Agency. And from the sound of things, he wasn't well. She'd known her departure would hit him hard. It was why she hadn't had the nerve to tell him about it herself. As close as they'd become, she knew he wouldn't have simply let her walk away, and she had been terrified that under his laser focus and angry interrogation, she wouldn't have been able to keep the truth from him. She thought it would be better for both of them if that never happened. But now, listening to a nearby stranger talking about Lee as though he was nothing more than another degenerate intelligence operative, she had her first doubts.

Much later, she sat parked across the street from his apartment. He had staggered in two hours ago, an equally unsteady woman clinging to his arm and giggling loudly at something he'd said. Now, the same woman was exiting his building alone, looking up and down the street and then hailing a cab. Amanda waited fifteen minutes after the lights went out in his apartment, then got out of her car and walked two blocks to the nearest payphone.

The phone rang three times before he picked up, obviously still awake.

"Stetson here."

The sound of his voice brought tears to her eyes. She'd known how unbearable it would be to go without seeing him, but she hadn't imagined how much she'd miss his low, melodic voice. Even roughened by alcohol and lack of sleep, it was still a balm to her ragged soul.

She heard him sigh impatiently.

"I'm really not in the mood for this tonight, alright? I'm hanging up now. I've got an early start tomorrow. If you ever figure out what it is you want to say, you obviously know where to find me."

The line went dead.

SMK SMK SMK SMK SMK

Early the next morning, Lee began his surveillance of Jim Brady, the leader of the Southern Sons of Liberty. Brady's compound was in a rural area near Myersville, Maryland, so he traded his conspicuous Corvette for an Agency fleet car and made the drive northwest along the 370. As he drove, he thought about the strange late night phone calls he'd been receiving the past week. Something about them was setting off his radar, but he didn't know why. It was probably just a prankster, or a disgruntled ex-girlfriend. And yet …

It couldn't be her. The day she'd quit the Agency, he'd driven to her house as soon as he'd left Billy's office. He had been so torn between fury, panic, worry and distress that he didn't even bother to knock, simply storming through her unlocked front door. She had been in the backyard, obviously anticipating his arrival.

"What the hell, Amanda? Were you just going to walk away without so much as a thanks-for-the-memories-Lee? I thought I was worth that, at least." All his warring feelings were fusing together into a searing poison in his gut that rose in his throat and met the air as vengeful speech. She had wounded him when he was defenseless, having long ago let down his careful guard where she was concerned. The only answer he had for such treachery was cruelty.

She had calmly absorbed his verbal blows, the sheen of tears the only evidence she even heard him. When he finally ran out of words, she looked away and said nothing. He waited several minutes to see if she would retaliate, or try at least to offer up some kind of hollow excuse for her betrayal. When it became apparent none was forthcoming, he left her yard, swearing he'd never speak to her again.

It hadn't been an easy resolution to keep. Once his initial shock wore off, he began to doubt his anger. His instincts were hardly ever wrong, and every ounce of his being told him that Amanda would never hurt him intentionally. It was the only reason he'd let her get close enough to land such a fatal blow in the first place. But if not a betrayal, then what? She could have come to him with whatever was bothering her. There wasn't anything they couldn't figure out, as long as they were together. But she'd left, and she'd sent him away, and he was lost.

He knew, observing his actions dispassionately, that he was punishing her by punishing himself. It was pitiable, how easily he'd fallen back in to his old habits, without the solid footing of her constancy. When he was drunk and buried inside some faceless companion, he bore no relation to the Lee Stetson that she knew, and that helped dull the pain.

Taking up his observation post in a small shack near the entrance to Brady's compound, he made the decision that once he was back at the Agency, he would run a trace on the incoming calls to his apartment. Just to be certain.

SMK SMK SMK SMK SMK

She watched him walk up the front steps of his apartment building. He was alone tonight, and not visibly intoxicated. He carried a small duffle bag she knew from past experience held his surveillance equipment. Billy must have him working a case. She felt the familiar pinch of worry for his safety. Old habits certainly died hard. But better the habits die than …

The lights in his apartment went out shortly afterwards. Without company, maybe he was actually going to get some sleep tonight. She should do the same, but she noticed that on the nights that she called him, she slept better than she had since the whole ordeal began, her recurring nightmares held at bay. She'd even started eating a bit again.

The phone rang only once before he picked up, but he didn't say anything. She heard his breath against the receiver and let out a little sigh.

"Amanda? Amanda, is that you? Talk to me, please."

She squeezed her eyes shut and hung up, her whole body shaking. It took fifteen minutes to calm herself down enough to drive home.

SMK SMK SMK SMK SMK

Something was wrong. He'd been watching the Southern Sons of Liberty compound for two days now, and while there was plenty of activity, he hadn't seen Jim Brady once. Had he gone to ground in advance of the assassination? He wanted to get closer, to see if he could overhear any conversations, but that would take the cover of darkness and his camouflage gear. He'd head into the city and come back later tonight. It would give him the chance to pick up the results of the phone trace on his home line at the Agency.

SMK SMK SMK SMK SMK

He picked up the phone after two rings. She waited for his voice, but he said nothing. She wondered briefly if she'd dialed the wrong number in her haste. She'd had a feeling he wasn't home for the night, and needed to hear him speak before he left again. Several minutes passed, and still nothing. Not even the sound of his breathing. Finally, she whispered a tiny "Lee?"

A hand on her shoulder made her jump and drop the phone handset. Spinning around she came face to face with him, and she instinctively tried to back away, her movement blocked by the walls of the phone booth.

"What's the matter, Amanda? Not expecting me?" he bit out harshly.

"I …." She had no words. He was so much larger than she remembered, his shoulders filling the doorway, blocking her escape. She cursed herself for her lack of forethought. Of course he'd traced the calls. She should have changed payphones. Or, better yet, she never should have called at all. She bit her lower lip, to keep it from trembling.

"I don't get you, Amanda King. I mean, first you destroy our partnership without so much as a word of apology. You refuse to talk to me when I ask you to explain. You disappear for two months. And then you start calling me in the middle of the night, but you don't say a word. What the hell do you want from me? Because I've done a little inventory, and I've come to the conclusion that I don't have anything left. So whatever it is, you're pretty much out of luck."

"I couldn't sleep." she whispered, as though that explained everything.

He bit out a mirthless laugh. "Join the club. Next time, try something medicinal, instead of calling me, okay?" His pinwheeling emotions had spun back around to anger, now that they were face-to-face, and she couldn't help but respond in kind.

"You mean like you? Cheap booze and an even cheaper lay?" She was gratified to see him flinch, but the ice in his eyes hardened by a few degrees.

"Once a spy, always a spy, I guess. I didn't realize you found my sex life so fascinating, Amanda."

She shook her head, suddenly too exhausted to continue their verbal war.

"Get out of my way, Lee. I need to go home."

"With pleasure." and he stepped away, extending a mock gallant arm, a blasphemy against his formal solicitousness.

She took two steps past him before her legs gave way beneath her and she started to sink towards the sidewalk. He caught her soon enough to soften the impact, but not before noticing that she pulled away from his touch, even as she fell.

"Amanda!" he bent down and lifted her into his arms, shocked by how light she felt. She had never been anything more than a light burden, but now she was nearly weightless, as insubstantial as smoke. Looking at her face, he noticed the prominence of her cheekbones, the sunken wells around her eyes, and the brittleness of her once shiny hair. He cursed himself for missing these telltale signs before, but he had been blinded by his outrage and confusion.

He carried her towards his apartment, ignoring her quiet protests. Kicking the door open with his foot, he lowered her gently onto his sofa, turning on a light so that he could better see her. If anything, she looked worse than he had imagined outside, and his insides curled around themselves. What the hell was going on? He'd instinctively known there was more to her departure than a simple betrayal, but his bruised ego and hurt feelings hadn't allowed him to consider any alternative. Now, seeing her here and thinking over her behaviour during the past months, he came to a nauseating conclusion.

"Amanda, are you sick?" he asked quietly.

She shook her head, but refused to meet his eyes.

"Amanda, please. I don't understand. Help me understand, because I'm utterly lost." he admitted.

"I can't sleep. I have these horrible nightmares. But if I hear your voice …" she trailed off, not knowing what else to say that wouldn't betray her secret.

"What kind of nightmares? Is that why you left? Because the job was giving you nightmares? Because the Agency has staff who are trained to handle those sorts of things. Billy said something about you not wanting to disappoint anyone. How could you ever think asking for help would be a disappointment? Lord knows I've needed your help more times than I can count over the years, and I never felt that you were disappointed in me as a result. Shouldn't it work both ways?" he felt like he was finally on the path to resolving the mystery of her departure once and for all, and he was relentless in his pursuit of answers.

She sensed his focus narrowing, too close to the truth for comfort, and tried to distract him.

"Where are you going? You're wearing your night surveillance gear. Am I keeping you from work?"

He breathed out a frustrated sigh, but the truth was that if he was going to make it back to Myersville before daybreak, he had to leave soon. He didn't want to end their discussion, sensing that if he left her now, she would retreat back into herself and he might never learn the truth. But he had a job to do.

"Come with me. I'm just doing some surveillance on an anti-government whackjob for Billy, but I have to drive up to Myersville before dawn. We can talk in the car."

She went completely white upon hearing his words.

"Myersville?" she whispered.

"Yeah. The Southern Sons of Liberty have a compound up there. I'm supposed to keep an eye on …"

"Jim Brady." she finished, trembling visibly.

"Amanda? What is it? How do you know Jim Brady? I haven't been able to lay eyes on him since Billy gave me this case."

"Nor will you."

Lee froze at the icy tone of her voice, a chill running down his spine.

They took her car, Lee insisting that he drive. She sat silent beside him, looking straight ahead. Despite the warm night air, she had the heater on high and she rubbed her forearms over and over until he reached out and stilled her. She grasped at him tightly with her cold, clammy fingers and he held her hand as he drove.

As they approached Myersville, Amanda directed Lee onto a unpaved rural road that led in the mountains. The car's headlights reflected off the thick undergrowth. Finally, at the top of a steep rise, she directed him to pull over.

He shut off the engine and waited for her to speak. She pulled her hand from his grip, wrapping both arms around herself protectively, and began her tale in a broken, lost voice.

"He contacted me through work. He said he had information that was vital to your safety, and that I was to meet him in Rock Creek Park. He told me if I said anything to anyone, that you'd be in grave danger. So I met him alone."

Lee bit back the urge to tell her what a foolish idea that had been. It was no time to be conducting a review of her performance, especially considering the fact they no longer worked together.

"He had surveillance photos of you, knew where you lived, where you ate, what you did after work. They'd obviously been watching you for a long time. And they'd seen you with me, and mistakenly concluded that we were involved. He gave me a choice. Either I give him the home addresses and security details of four progressive senators, or they were going to kill you. He was so convincing. So ruthless. I'm certain he was criminally insane. I just knew that if I didn't do what he wanted, you'd die."

She stopped talking, and the early morning silence filled the car. He wanted to reach out, to hold her, to tell her that she'd been put in an untenable position for a novice agent, and that he didn't blame her for divulging national secrets if she truly believed doing otherwise would have cost him his life. But he stayed quiet, and eventually she continued.

"I arranged to meet him up here, far from the city. I said I didn't want anyone to see us together a second time, and he believed me. I went to the Agency, after everyone had left, and I forged the information. I made it look real, printed it on government letterhead, but none of it was correct. Then I drove up to Myersville in my car. We met right here. I handed him the documents, and when he pulled out his flashlight to read them, I shot him in the head, right where the beam of light shone on his forehead. If it hasn't been eaten by wild animals, his body is still at the bottom of that ravine. And then I drove back to Washington, handed in my resignation to Billy, and went home. You know the rest."

He sat perfectly still, letting her words sink in. He was overwhelmed by a sudden wave of guilt. Two months. She had been dealing with this, poorly, on her own for two months. And what had he been doing? Wallowing in self-pity and disillusionment. She had broken one of her sacred tenets, a cornerstone of who she was as a person, in order to save his life, and all he had done was lash out at her for her perceived betrayal. He wanted to rip the sky apart, he was so angry with himself.

The sound of her quiet sobs brought him back to the present, and he reached across the seat and dragged her into his arms, holding her as tightly as her fragile frame allowed. He rocked gently, murmuring nothing words and stroking her hair until she started to calm.

"I wish you'd told me, Amanda. I could have helped you deal with it. Found you someone to talk to, if you couldn't talk to me. I should have been helping you, instead of saying all those hateful things in your backyard."

"I couldn't, Lee. I was so confused, am so confused, and so disappointed in myself. I don't know who I am anymore. And I couldn't stand to see those feelings mirrored in your eyes if I told you. I still can't, but you were going to find out anyway, now that you were supposed to be following him."

"I could never be disappointed in you, Amanda. You're the yardstick by which I measure everything that is good and honest and beautiful. After all the people you've seen me kill in the line of duty, how could you possibly think I would judge?"

"You still don't understand. I didn't kill him because of the Agency, or those senators. This had nothing to do with duty. I killed him because he was going to kill you. And I'd do it again in a heartbeat. That's what terrifies me."

He pressed his lips to her temple and continued to hold her, long after his arms started to go numb. The sky on the eastern horizon was brightening, and still they sat, drawing comfort from one another at last. He knew she still needed help to deal with her guilt and memories. And he had a lot of thinking to do too, about his irrational reaction to her departure and subsequent dance with self-destruction. But he could see a way forward now, as long as they were together. They held each other, and watched in silence as the sun spilled over the horizon and washed the dark away.

THE END


	2. Chapter 2

July 7, 1985

Overseeing Physician: Dr. P. McJohn

Referring Supervisor: William Melrose

Patient: Amanda King

Background: The patient resigned precipitously from the Agency on May 2, 1985, following a case in which she felt compelled to terminate a suspect, one Jim Brady. The patient's former partner, Lee Stetson, re-established contact with the patient after two months and noticed a marked deterioration in her physical and emotional well-being. Upon consultation with her former supervisor, William Melrose, Mr. Stetson recommended the patient for psychological analysis, as her condition related directly to her work at the Agency.

Initial Observations: The patient appears to be in poor to middling physical health and is exhibiting symptoms of malnutrition. She is able to identify her surroundings and seems lucid. Pupils respond naturally to light and patient states she is not currently taking any prescription medications, nor is she under the influence of alcohol or drugs. Patient's behaviour is moderately calm, although she exhibits occasional signs of agitation such as clasping of hands, pulling on necklace, etc.

The following is a typed transcript of the 30 minute session I conducted with Mrs. King on the above-noted date.

P: Hello, Amanda. Thank you for coming to see me today.

AK: Hello, doctor. Thank you very much for seeing me.

P: Can you tell me why you're here?

AK: Well, Lee, that is, Agent Stetson, thinks I need to talk to someone. To a professional like yourself. Because …. because I'm having some trouble dealing with … some things that I've done recently.

P: You say Agent Stetson thinks you should be here. Do you agree with him?

AK: Yes. Well, yes. I tried …. that is, I did my best to sort through things on my own, but I wasn't able to. And Lee and Mr. Melrose were both so insistent that I should come speak to you, even though I don't work at the Agency anymore …

P: Why don't you work at the Agency anymore, Amanda?

AK: I quit. About nine weeks' ago.

P: Why did you quit?

AK: I … did something awful. Something I knew would disappoint … my superiors. So I quit.

P: Alright, we'll get back to that point in a little while, but first I want to understand your motivation for being here today. Are you simply here because Agent Stetson and Mr. Melrose think you should be here? Or are you here for yourself as well?

AK: *silence*

P: I ask, because it's been my observation that patients who come to me for help because they are trying to please others very rarely find the answers they need. Whereas patients who are here because they acknowledge their own need for help often do.

AK: I want to feel better. The last two months of my life have been a living hell, and I need to find a way to get better, for those who … care about me, and for myself as well.

P: Very good, Amanda. I'm happy to hear it. Now, you mentioned that something that happened nine weeks' ago caused you to quit the Agency and started this "living hell" that you refer to. Can you tell me a bit about happened? Only as much as you feel comfortable sharing.

AK: Well, um, I was approached by a man who said he had information vital to Agent Stetson's safety. When I met with him, he tried to blackmail me into divulging vital national security information. He said he would … that he would kill Agent Stetson if I didn't comply.

P: Alright, let's stop there for a minute. Is this the first time that Agent Stetson's life has been in danger?

AK: *laughs* No. Hardly. As an intelligence operative, his life is in danger almost every day. But it's the first time that I've been asked to make the decision whether he lived or died.

P: Really, Amanda? I find that surprising. You'd been his partner for almost two years. I'm certain your actions have saved his life before, whether you realize it or not.

AK: Well, maybe you're right. But this was the first time I had to … do something I always said I'd never do in order to save him.

P: Are you able to tell me what that something was?

AK: I …. I killed him. I killed the man who was threatening Lee.

P: That must have been very difficult.

AK: No. You see? That's the problem. It wasn't difficult at all. I always imagined that it would be. But when the time came, it was so easy to pull the trigger. I never knew myself until that moment. And I don't like who I saw.

P: Alright, let's step away from that issue for the moment. I understand that you have children, Amanda.

AK: Yes. Philip and Jamie. They're 11 and 9.

P: And I imagine that, like most mothers, you would do anything for your sons.

AK: Of course.

P: If their lives were in danger, do you think you would kill to protect them?

AK: Yes, if I felt I had no other choice.

P: And do you think that they would feel disappointed in you, if you did?

AK: Well, no. No, I guess not. I'd worry about what sort of example I'd be setting for them, but I think if I could make them understand that I had no other choice to protect them, that they would understand.

P: And Agent Stetson is, as you say, an experienced intelligence operative. Whose life is in danger on a regular basis.

AK: Yes …

P: So I'm interested in knowing why you feel he would be disappointed in your actions, when you've just explained why your young children would understand your motivation in similar circumstances. And Agent Stetson is trained to operate in circumstances such as the one you were in.

AK: I … I don't know if I can explain.

P: Please try, Amanda. I understand that this may be difficult, but I'm not here to judge. Nothing you say need ever leave this room, if you wish me to place a seal on this interview session. But I think it's important to be honest with yourself, in order to heal.

AK: Alright. I guess … maybe it's because of who I think Agent Stetson needs me to be. I've always been the calm to his impetuous. It's what makes … made us work so well as partners. But if I can kill a suspect in cold blood …

P: You don't think Agent Stetson needs a partner who can protect him from danger?

AK: No … I mean, yes. I don't know. I just know that I felt I was no longer the person he … admired. That if I was like all the other agents he'd worked with before, that he … wouldn't need me anymore.

P: Did you give Agent Stetson the chance to tell you if that was how he felt?

AK: No. I couldn't. I was so upset, and I knew that if he reacted badly, that I wouldn't be able to cope with that as well. So I left. I ruined our partnership when I ran away. I know that's what I did. But at the time it seemed like a better option than Lee no longer thinking well of me. That's funny, isn't it? That it was better for me never to see him again than for him to think less of me.

P: It's obvious that his good opinion is very important to you. But it's also obvious that you don't trust him.

AK: What?! No! I trust Lee completely. There's no-one in the world I trust more.

P: But you didn't trust him enough to make up his own mind regarding whether your actions changed his opinion of who you are. You obviously know him very well, after being partners for as long as you have. And yet you rushed to judgment on his behalf.

AK: *silence*

P: Amanda, our thirty minutes are almost up. But I've got some homework for you.

AK: Okay.

P: I want you to talk to Agent Stetson. To give him a chance to tell you how he feels about your actions in the Jim Brady case.

AK: I don't know …

P: Give it a try, Amanda. I think he may surprise you.

AK: Alright. Thank you.

July 9, 1985

Overseeing Physician: Dr. P. McJohn

Referring Supervisor: self-referred

Patient: Lee Stetson

Background: The patient has been a field agent with the Agency for over eleven years, with numerous commendations. The patient is an orphan, having lost his parents at the age of five. In 1981, the patient's former partner, Jack Rabellino, was killed in the line of duty and the patient was placed on a mandatory six week psych leave. The patient's new partner, Amanda King, resigned precipitously from the Agency on May 2, 1985, following a case in which Mrs. King killed a suspect, one Jim Brady. The patient's supervisor, William Melrose, expressed concerns about the patient's mental health following Mrs. King's departure, but did not recommend mandatory treatment. The patient approached this office independently, after re-establishing contact with Mrs. King, and requested evaluation.

Initial Observations: The patient appears uncomfortable and has refused to sit or lie down, preferring to pace. The patient has a known aversion to medical treatment of any kind. He is in excellent physical condition, and is well-groomed and well-dressed, indicating a good overall state of mental health.

The following is a typed transcript of the 30 minute session I conducted with Agent Stetson on the above-noted date.

P: Thank you for being here today, Agent Stetson. Or do you prefer Lee?

LS: Agent Stetson or Scarecrow are both fine.

P: Very well. You requested this session, so why don't you start with telling me why you're here?

LS: As you undoubtedly know, my partner, Amanda King, resigned several weeks ago. I … didn't handle it well.

P: In what way didn't you handle it well?

LS: *laughs* Let's just say I went on an eight week bender and leave it at that.

P: And was that unusual behaviour for you?

LS: Recently? Yes.

P: What do you think motivated it?

LS: Amanda's departure.

P: Yes, we've covered that part. But what about Mrs. King's departure caused you to react in the way that you did?

LS: I guess … that I couldn't understand the reason for it. And she refused to talk to me. I found out about her quitting from Agent Desmond, of all people. She ran into me in the hallway, before Billy could talk to me. She couldn't quite hide her delight that Amanda had finally seen sense and dumped my ass.

P: You sound angry.

LS: I am. I was.

P: At Amanda?

LS: I don't know. Probably. But mostly at myself.

P: Why would you be angry at yourself? You weren't aware of the situation with Jim Brady at this point, I believe.

LS: No, I wasn't. And maybe that's part of it. That my partner was in distress, and I didn't pick up on it until it was too late. I'm supposed to be trained to notice those things, you know?

P: Alright. If that was a part of it, what was the rest?

LS: *silence*

P: Agent Stetson, you requested this session. It's only going to be of value to you if you answer my questions honestly.

LS: Yeah. I know. I'm not very good at introspection.

P: On the contrary, I think you're probably very good at it. It's probably the part where you share your thoughts with others that you're not very good at. That would be consistent with the psychological profile of you that I read prior to this session.

LS: Oh, you did some background research on me, did you? Figures.

P: It's part of my job. But you know that. Now back to the question at hand. Why were you angry at yourself at Amanda's departure?

LS: I was angry because it made me so angry, if that makes any sense. I hadn't realized how much I'd come to … rely on … Amanda until she was gone. That wasn't part of the plan, when we first starting working together.

P: Plans change.

LS: Not without conscious thought, they shouldn't. She was supposed to be a civilian assistant. I was only humouring Billy when I let him match her with me. I figured it was a better alternative to being forced to have a real partner. But then she showed a real aptitude for the job, and I came to rely on her, and the next thing I knew she was my partner.

P: And that wasn't part of the plan.

LS: I guess not. But it was okay. It was good.

P: But …?

LS: But I forgot to defend the zone.

P: Pardon?

LS: Football analogy. I was so busy thinking about how to protect her from the hardships of becoming an agent, I forgot to defend myself.

P: Defend yourself against what?

LS: Against her leaving. Because eventually, everyone always leaves.

P: Alright, that's why you're angry at yourself. Let's talk about why you're angry at Amanda.

LS: I'm not angry at her. Not anymore.

P: Why not?

LS: She told me everything. As soon as I understood what had happened, how she had been forced to kill Jim Brady to protect me, I wasn't angry anymore. Not at her. Just at myself for not being there for her when she needed me.

P: Why do you think she left without talking to you?

LS: I think she was grieving.

P: And she couldn't ask you, her partner, for help with her grief?

LS: Grief is one of those emotions that you have to work through on your own. It isn't for someone else or about someone else, it's entirely about you. Oddly enough, it's a lot like love that way.

P: That's a very perceptive observation, Agent Stetson.

LS: You don't spend the majority of your adult life on your own without having a lot of time for self-analysis, doc.

P: So do you think you've worked through your own grief?

LS: My grief? I'm not grieving for Jim Brady, Amanda is.

P: I'm talking about other losses that you've experienced. Your file says you lost a partner a few years' back. And then, there's your parents …

LS: Have I worked through my grief over my parents' death when I was five years old? And J … my partner's death thirty-seven months ago? As much as I think I'm ever going to. You get angry. You get drunk. You get maudlin. And then you pick your ass up and get on with life, because that's the only thing you can do. Basic Kubler-Ross, right?

P: You forgot the first stage.

LS: Which one is that?

P: Denial.

LS: What is that supposed to mean?

P: Well, the Kubler-Ross model posits that you have to work through each stage from first to last in order to come to terms with your grief.

LS: And you think I'm in denial about the loss of my parents or Jack?

P: No, but I do think you may be in denial about the loss of your latest partner.

LS: Amanda? Amanda's not dead.

P: We don't only grieve for someone's death. You can grieve for the loss of a friendship. A partnership. A relationship.

LS: She's fine. She's doing much better. And it's probably for the best that she's left the Agency. At least she's out of harm's way. She'll eventually find something else that suits her and is a lot less dangerous….

P: That may well be, Agent Stetson. But we're not talking about Amanda and what she wants or needs. We're talking about you. Look, we're out of time, but I want you to promise me that you'll do something before we meet again next week. I want you to consider why you reacted the way that you did to Amanda's sudden departure, and what you might have been grieving or reliving at that point. You don't have to talk to me about it, if you don't want to. But you don't strike me as a man who shies away from having difficult conversations with himself. Will you do that?

LS: Sure. I guess so.

P: Good. See you next week then.

LS: Yeah.


End file.
